


Quit It

by Hibibun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Stripper AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibibun/pseuds/Hibibun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima really should stop it, but something keeps drawing him back in just like how Kuroo’s stare kept attracting him at the club. He’s desperate to prove something to the other, but the annoying part is he doesn’t even know what. He thinks it might have to do with all the things Kuroo seems to assume about Tsukishima, but as much as he tries to deny it at times, the other is usually right.</p><p>It’s frustrating. He wants to catch him off guard or show him he’s not the person the other seems to think he is, but he has yet to figure out how to do that or even really figure out what exactly Kuroo thinks of him. He’s torn between trying to show him up and get the other uncomfortable for once or stopping all contact entirely. His pride steadily reminds him that second choice isn’t really an option at this point though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quit It

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey, so I wrote this a while back for a friend and got hesitant to post it since I primarily post Durarara!! related stuff to this account, but here we are... it also feels a bit rushed still so I apologize for that. I hope you enjoy! Tiny bit of credit at the end as part of this idea came from talking to said friend mentioned earlier and another fic I read (apology now because I don't know how to insert/format links to things on this site)! Note to self, think of better ways to summarize things than just little excerpts from the piece it self.
> 
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about actual strippers, so \ o /

He honestly hates this place.

The noise, the costumes, the customers, his so called coworkers, all of it just makes him disgusted. If it weren’t for the money he walks away with at the end of the night, Tsukishima wouldn’t even bother with the place.

He grimaces at the outfit laid out for tonight. It’s the stereotypical cop outfit, except the length of the shorts is obscenely short. He grits his teeth, before taking a breath to at least be able to look like he isn’t completely scowling. Although, a coworker did have the nerve to comment that part of his charm seemed to be his “resting bitch face.”

Tsukishima had promptly told them to shut the fuck up and walked away.

This job never stopped feeling demeaning and every time he had to go out there, dance about the pole and look at the sea of faces—grateful when he spotted people not interested in the show—he just felt dirty and more cynical than he had been at the start of the night.

Tonight was nothing new. 

Some faces he recognized and held back the sneer he felt since even if it was their bills he made a living off of, it still never ceased to disgust him how the same people would come and throw their paycheck away on an establishment like this one.

He’d gotten better at making up a rhythm to swing along to as the music thrummed, but it didn’t make him feel good. The lights were too bright and though there was something erotic to be found in the sweat it caused, it just left Tsukishima feeling like he needed several showers to feel clean.

He brings up a hand to loosen the tie on his outfit, largely because it was starting to get irritatingly warm, but also because it was a part of the show. As he does so, his eyes catch one of the faces in the sea before him who gives him a look somewhere between the usual ones he sees of strangers imagining whatever it is they come here to imagine, but also disturbingly like he’s being looked through.

Tsukishima immediately decides he doesn’t like it. Not just because he’s seen enough of those kinds of faces, but because he hates it when people think they know him.

He can’t help the brief glare he sends towards the stranger before doing his best to ignore them especially after the grin they give in return.

It doesn’t work.

Even when he tries to look elsewhere, he feels the unwavering gaze burning him. Burning through him. It ends up drawing him in against his will and he does all he can to convey how much he despises it.

Despite the terrible lighting from his view, he can vaguely make out their appearance through the dim side of where the customers sit. Their hair is black and looks wildly ridiculous either with an idiotic looking bedhead or styled to look so, in an outfit not uncommon for those visiting a club like this; all tight clothes, which only accentuate the broad shoulders, yet, surprisingly wiry build of the stranger.

What infuriates Tsukishima most though is that fucking grin. They never took their eyes of him so every time they caught the looks of annoyance the blond sent their way, their smile only widened. There were two other people at the table with him, but while Tsukishima was on stage, he hardly paid them mind. Another man with what looked like lighter, spikier hair kept trying to get his attention, but he only leaned over to respond, eyes never leaving the stage.

He undoes a button on the shorts and feels himself steadily losing patience. It’d been a long time since he had a night this bad and the only comfort he had was the fact his shift was almost over.

Just one more song, just a little longer and he could leave this place with its disgusting customers, and disgusting outfits. At least, until he had to work again the next evening.

If only he could get those damn eyes off him.

                                                                                                                                        -

Sometime between the ending of his shift and as he’s finally leaving, the table where that stranger and the people he came with became filled with unfamiliar faces. He lets out a sigh of relief because despite never having spoken a single word with the guy, he decidedly never wants to see his face again.

Those eyes keep haunting him even though he’s uncertain as to whether he’ll see them ever again.

His wish that the stranger is someone from out of town and therefore someone who he’ll never meet with again is dashed when he reaches the exit and finds none other than the man standing there innocently by the wall.

At the noise of the door opening, they glance over and that terrible grin spreads itself except now it’s accompanied with a voice, “Hey, got a sec?”

Tsukishima stares dumbfounded for a minute and doesn’t stop the words from slipping out to show as much, “Are you an idiot?”

He was sure he made it abundantly clear that he hates this person’s guts. He doesn’t care if they haven’t spoken a word until now, he doesn’t like getting looked at like he’s a piece of meat and worse like he’s someone so easily read. People can shout what they want while he’s on stage and he can go on ignoring them, but talking to them outside of work is something he wants no part of.

What angers him more is the stranger only responds with a laugh as opposed to being insulted.

“No, I just wanted to ask why a guy like you was working here. It’s obvious you hate it enough that you’re not afraid to glare at your customers,” the guy explains and it makes it clear that what Tsukishima had previously thought was true. This person was assuming things. What was worse was he wasn’t wrong.

“None of your business,” He tries to answer coolly enough to express his annoyance, but not with the amount of anger he actually feels. It’s frustrating how easily he’s being worked up when nothing has even happened.

“Not very friendly are you? Although, I guess in its own way that’s attractive too. It wouldn’t hurt to smile sometimes though, y’know?” They go on and interrupt themselves before even giving Tsukishima time to answer, “Ah, right I never introduced myself, and here I was talking about being friendly, how rude of me. Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you.”

The hand he extends is left hanging and Tsukishima is moments away from shoving his headphones on and simply walking away. He hates people who just love to listen to themselves talk. He didn’t want to put a name to this stranger because now he’s only forced to remember him more.

“Well, aren’t you going to give me your name in return?” Kuroo insists and it’s the straw that breaks his patience entirely.

“No. Now fuck off. In case you’re too idiotic to figure it out, the show ended and I’d like to go home,” Tsukishima grits out and he can’t stop himself from finding every detail about this person infuriating in some way.

What’s worse is they only look disappointed for maybe a fraction of a second before that grin crawls its way back on their face as he stomps off not even wanting to listen to their reply.

                                                                                                                                         -

Tonight it’s a sports outfit. Volleyball specifically. Tsukishima can’t help the snort at seeing it because the irony is just too much. He had played in high school, but more than that, his older brother had played too. Akiteru would probably be crying at the knowledge he was about to strip off the uniform, but then again he’d probably be crying at the knowledge of his little brother working as a stripper to begin with.

It really does pay well though.

He’s not looking forward to having to wear a jersey in the heat that is the stage, but he supposes it’ll be off soon enough.

However, as he steps out on the stage and takes in the crowd his night immediately falls apart. First of all, that stranger, Kuroo, is back, but not only is he closer to the stage, he’s alone.

Close enough that he can make out his expression even clearer and more annoyingly close enough that he can actually be paid this time.

Tsukishima tries to ignore him. He moves about the pole and slows his pace as the music does to steadily unzip the jersey. As he reaches the bottom, his eyes catch with Kuroo’s and he manages to catch a brief look of surprise at what he’s wearing underneath. The look doesn’t mean anything to him though and he has to resist the urge to throw the jersey at him out of irritation.

He’d probably just keep it and do nasty things with it anyway. The guy must be a pervert after all. A pervert who’s unfortunately taken a fixation on him.

Instead, he throws it behind him and goes to rub against the pole almost kneeling before bringing himself upright again. As he does so, he catches Kuroo reach out and slip a few bills inside the waistband of the shorts along with something that isn’t money, but that the blond has no time to look at now. The wink he gives while doing so leaves him scowling, and he purposely looks towards the other people trying to give him similar tips.

All of them disgust him.

The treatment continues as he slides the shorts to dangle lower on his hips, just barely still on. Tsukishima is biting back another scowl because he really does hate this place. The fact people are even entertained or aroused or whatever reason they come here for by what he’s doing just leaves him feeling gross. He’s a complete stranger to these people, yet they’re watching him as if he’s giving them a private show.

It feels wrong as he runs his hands up his stomach, just letting the shirt go up a bit to give a taste at what the skin underneath looks like.

He only meets Kuroo’s eyes a couple more times that night and every time makes his blood boil. In addition to the grins and too wide smiles that angered Tsukishima, he now felt the need to wink or lick his lips sometimes.

Disgusting.

Soon enough the music winds down and he’s allotted a break. As he’s collecting and organizing the tips he received, a piece of paper falls out of the pile with the name Kuroo scrawled on it and a number.

He promptly crumples it and throws it in the trash.

This stranger was starting to look more like a stalker.

When his break ends, he dons a new outfit, and a sigh of relief escapes him as he notices the absence of his stalker in the crowd. The job still sucks, but it’s at least a relief from those eyes.

                                                                                                                                        -

Tsukishima had yesterday off and he can’t stop laughing at the image of his stalker arriving at the club and waiting for him to get on stage only to be disappointed when he never shows. Will he think he quit? Or maybe he seriously thought he’d hang onto the number? It keeps amusing him and soon his feelings of contempt are taking on a delightful twist of arrogance instead.

How desperate was he for Tsukishima’s attention that he’d act so pathetic? It was disturbing, but when he viewed it like that, he only felt powerful.

That feeling remained as he steps on stage the next night and spots no sign of his stalker.

Smirking to himself, he lets the music take him and it’s the first good night he’s had in a while. That is until towards the end of his shift, Tsukishima spots him making his way closer to the stage. His good mood and ego immediately fall apart when he sees that face and he has a feeling he’s going to ask him about why he hasn’t called or messaged him.

His predictions are almost right. At the end of his shift, as expected, his stalker was waiting for him outside by the same wall as the first night. Except, instead of asking him, he merely holds out another slip of paper almost identical to the one he gave him previously with an almost sheepish smile on his face.

“Thought you might have lost it, so I thought I’d hand it to you directly this time,” He elaborates and Tsukishima pauses before laughing in his face. He doesn’t think he’s ever laughed this hard in a long time, because it’s almost unbelievable how stupid this person is.

“You’re joking right?” He says between laughing, but again Kuroo doesn’t seem bothered in the least. It pisses him off.

“What makes you say that?” He asks genuinely, as if he can’t already tell and Tsukishima wastes no time spelling it out for him.

“I hate you. I’ve despised you from the moment I saw you, you and that stupid grin—” He starts, but stops himself, because he doesn’t feel like explaining any more than that. It got his point across and he hopes it’s enough to finally make this person leave him alone.

What he doesn’t expect is that smile to return on the stalker’s face, but it looks a little off. The blond counts it as a small win, but it still annoys him how casual and carefree they take everything.

“One night. Give me one night to prove you wrong,” Kuroo says adding on, “It’s not like you’ve even really spoken to me. Besides, I never got to pay you for the show tonight.”

“I’m a stripper, not a prostitute, and we don’t have to talk for me to decide that I don’t like you,” Tsukishima sneers a little insulted because while it’s not exactly prestigious to be a stripper, he considers it better than a prostitute.

Kuroo laughs and he finds himself twitching at the sound of it especially since he can’t find anything humorous in what he just said.

“I’m asking to buy you dinner, not your body. Come on, wherever you want to go. All I want is a conversation,” Kuroo tries to persuade and Tsukishima is about to turn him down. Explain how he doesn’t want anything to do with him and wishes he’d just fuck off and leave him alone, when his stomach decides to join the conversation and irritatingly make the grin on his stalker’s face widen.

“See? Someone’s agreeing with me at least. Do you like Italian? There’s this place a block away that’s really good,” He’s rambling on and he finally comes to the conclusion that maybe if he just goes he’ll be able to get free food and get a good enough reason for Kuroo to accept that he hates him.

So that’s how Tsukishima finds himself walking side by side his stalker and listening to him go on and prompting the blond to begrudgingly speak every now and then.

Kuroo comments that he was surprised the other night by his outfit because he apparently had played volleyball in high school too. It’s dragged out of him that he similarly played in high school and he ignores the spike of irritation at the other being excited that they both were middle blockers. Tsukishima ignores his comment that they might have just missed playing together. He doesn’t care. He finds out that Kuroo is three years older than him. That that first night he was with someone named Bokuto and another guy named Akaashi, but he doesn’t care to listen too closely on who they are.

Kuroo’s still talking as they enter the restaurant and Tsukishima still wants to go home. It isn’t until they’re seated that the brunette brings up the topic of his name again commenting, “It’s stupid to keep addressing you as you.”

He tells his stalker his name is Tsukishima Kei. He states that’s too long and decides to give him a nickname which he thought he finally escaped, only adding to his poor mood. The conversation lulls as Kuroo continues to talk about himself and Tsukishima doesn’t care enough to listen all too closely. Something about his job, where he’s going to school and what he’s there for, but he’s not interested.

“So Tsukki, you ready to say why you’re working at a strip club when it doesn’t suit you at all? Don’t get me wrong, you’re definitely hot, but it’s clear you don’t really agree and don’t want to be there,” Kuroo asks and the question hangs in the air. It’s making his skin crawl because he’s too perceptive and he hardly wants to talk to the guy to begin with.

“It pays well,” is all he responds with and can’t bring himself to deny the other statement out loud. If he denies it, Kuroo will just pick harder at him and his insecurities could spill out carelessly. If he ignores it, he may think he’s right, but he won’t know for sure.

Except, Kuroo seems to know everything about him before they’ve even spoken a word. It’s annoying.

He frowns and decides he wants to go home. His food is only half eaten and Kuroo had made mention of the desserts being good, but his appetite is gone. That grin only speaks volumes about what the other is thinking in terms of his response.

“I’m going home,” He announces ultimately deciding he doesn’t want to hear what Kuroo has to say and doesn’t stay long enough to see whether the other is disappointed by it or not. He’s standing and shoving his headphones on, giving just enough energy to walk away briskly, ignoring how it feels closer to a run considering he doesn’t like to put energy into anything he doesn’t have to.

He wants to rip up the phone number the second he walks in, but instead he finds himself irritatingly pulling out his phone, punching in the numbers before sending a short message.

[I still hate you.]

                                                                                                                                        -

Tsukishima had hoped that’d be the end of it, but the messages continue to go back and forth. Every time he responds, he tells himself whatever Kuroo answers with this time he’ll just ignore and delete the number later.

It doesn’t work though.

Kuroo doesn’t come to see him at the club anymore at least. Occasionally, he’ll be outside when Tsukishima exits, but he can usually ignore him with his music.

He’s never had a stalker before and he wonders if he should get some kind of restraining order. The only problem is that he is partly responsible for their interaction. He was the one who accepted the dinner and was the first to text him (and has ceased in stopping).

Not to mention aside from passing compliments, Kuroo hasn’t tried anything sexual at all. The few times they do meet in person, he’s more interested in trying to talk than anything else. Even his texts only occasionally contain flirting. Most of the time he’s just being playful and as laidback as he always is.

It’s weird to think that it’s been going on long enough for Tsukishima to even acknowledge what is and isn’t normal behavior for Kuroo. It’s been at least a week or so now since that first night he saw him sitting at the table with his friends.

Tsukishima really should stop it, but something keeps drawing him back in just like how Kuroo’s stare kept attracting him at the club. He’s desperate to prove something to the other, but the annoying part is he doesn’t even know what. He thinks it might have to do with all the things Kuroo seems to assume about Tsukishima, but as much as he tries to deny it at times, the other is usually right.

It’s frustrating. He wants to catch him off guard or show him he’s not the person the other seems to think he is, but he has yet to figure out how to do that or even really figure out what exactly Kuroo thinks of him. He’s torn between trying to show him up and get the other uncomfortable for once or stopping all contact entirely. His pride steadily reminds him that second choice isn’t really an option at this point though.

Kuroo keeps inviting him out places, but he keeps saying no. Restaurants, a game of volleyball with his friends, one time he even invites him over to his place and all Tsukishima can reply with is another question of whether he’s an idiot or not.

It reaches a point where he finally agrees to a cup of coffee. It’s quick, it’s simple, and despite how excited Kuroo gets insisting that it’s their second date, Tsukishima goes hoping it’ll end his stalker’s fascination with him.

It should bother him how Kuroo insists on buying his drink for him, but he figures it’s a fair trade for being forced out to begin with.

Before Kuroo can open his mouth to go off on another tangent when they sit down, Tsukishima bluntly asks, “Why are you doing all this?”

A small strike of pride goes through the blond at the brief look of surprise that falls on Kuroo’s face.

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever tried going out with you before,” He responds with and Tsukishima blinks because to be honest not many have tried no.

There were girls in high school, but because of his demeanor, many of them would resort to love letters he’d read and then throw away or rare confessions that he’d turn down. No one had ever been as pushy and annoying about it as Kuroo had been and for the life of him, he doesn’t even know why the other is trying so hard.

“You’re trying to tell me that you want to date me? All from seeing me once at a strip club. Isn’t that kind of pathetic?” Tsukishima begins, continuing on letting his arrogance grow, “You don’t know anything about me. All your motivation comes from how I look so your interest hardly means anything. Beyond that I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not interested, so why won’t you just leave me alone?”

It’s the most he’s spoken in their almost one sided conversations with how much Kuroo talks for the both of them. Kuroo doesn’t seem startled by it though. He’s not wearing his typical grin, but he’s not frowning either. In fact, his whole expression is unreadable and it’s setting Tsukishima off.

The silence stretches a bit more before Kuroo calmly answers, “Why do you think I’ve been trying to talk to you?”

The point is so obvious and simple that it manages to make Tsukishima feel stupid for once in his life. It makes perfect sense that Kuroo would want to learn more about him if he was interested in dating. It makes sense that he might have been attracted by how he looked and decided that was enough to try and strike up a conversation.

But it doesn’t explain why he’s putting in all this effort. What Kuroo even found attractive about him in the first place. All he’s done is hurl insults at him and despite the confidence he shows when he’s stripping, it’s mostly an act.

He twitches as a hand brushes over his, “I like you, Kei,” Kuroo responds sincerely and it’s so out of place that it almost sounds fake. The way he says his name sounds wrong, everything about it feels revolting. All he can find himself responding with is a hasty thank you for the coffee, which he doesn’t even really mean, before he’s quickly moving his hand away and leaving the café.

It’s their second—not really—date and Tsukishima finds himself walking away even faster than before. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s running away. He already feels pathetic enough just from that one encounter.

 

                                                      -

Kuroo stops texting him after that and Tsukishima is thankful for the respite. He carries on like he did before, but as the days go on, there’s a strange sensation of something being missing and it irritates him for reasons he can’t explain.

There’s no one waiting to walk him home or send him stupid reports about their day. There’s no texts about how there’s this movie airing tonight or stupid jokes that he doesn’t hesitate in pointing out how they’re not funny.

It’s jarring and if Tsukishima is honest with himself, it’s a little lonely.

His pride and confusion over his own feelings keep stopping him from just asking why Kuroo suddenly stopped bugging him.

He wants to know, but it would involve admitting that he missed him. Or at least, that he noticed his absence in the first place. More and more, he ends up frustrated because he should be happy. His stalker finally stopped, but it doesn’t even feel right to even call him a stalker at this point.

Friend feels too strong, but mere acquaintances doesn’t seem right either.

It’s four days later and he’s staring at his phone unsure on what to do. It’s an odd sensation because he tends to go into things with some kind of plan, but this is a situation he has no idea how to prepare for.

Kuroo was someone he was never prepared for.

Impulsively, he sends a single message and forces himself to hit send before he changes his mind.

[Pick me up after work tonight.]

                                                                                                                                        -

He’s surprised that not only did Kuroo come, but more than that, he came earlier than expected; early enough to catch part of his act.

It’s odd to strip in front of someone who likes you. Well, like beyond more than simply how he looks. He’s used to the perverted looks sent his way while he’s on stage, but this is different. Kuroo may not know everything about him, but he certainly knows more than anyone else in this room.

Long ago, when Tsukishima first started he had felt uncomfortable at doing something like this, but by now, he had enough sense to at least fake his confidence when on stage. So it felt strange to feel that embarrassment creeping back in. A meaningless removal of clothes suddenly felt more intimate than it should and he admittedly found his gaze continuously falling on Kuroo’s as he danced.

His smile looked different. Tsukishima wasn’t sure how to explain it or even sure whether it was just him viewing Kuroo differently.

He wanted this to end already. Everything about the past week and a half had left him in a state of confusion and irritation. He wanted answers.

He wanted to know why he had started to care what a complete stranger thought about him. He wanted to know how Kuroo could see through him so easily past the wall he put up years ago.

He wants to know why it feels so frustratingly normal to have Kuroo waiting outside for him as he exits the club, still wearing that smile he had been giving him while he was dancing.

“I was waiting for your text,” Kuroo greets him; smile too wide and suddenly the annoyance he had built over the past several days began to flood over.

Kuroo knew this would happen. He ignored him on purpose and was confident that Tsukishima would contact him. What’s worse is  _he was completely right._ Again.

Tsukishima feels himself flush up and he can’t even tell whether it’s from mortification or anger. Kuroo’s smile cracks into the grin he had hated so much and Tsukishima has to resist the urge to hit him.

Smoothly, Kuroo continues on the conversation acting as if he had simply gone on a vacation somewhere. He asks how Tsukishima’s been immediately interrupting with his own answer of how he’s been; acting overdramatic in retelling how he thought he had been rejected and how he was so miserable.

Tsukishima does hit him then.

                                                                                                                                        -

They’re at the same restaurant Kuroo had convinced Tsukishima to go to before and he’s having trouble admitting to himself that this might be a date and definitely not their third date, which Kuroo keeps calling it.

He can’t for the life of him understand how he missed this man. If anything, he’s more on edge than he had been the previous times they talked. He keeps focusing on how he probably smells less than pleasant from the work he had been doing that night and how his hair might be sticking to his face in a gross way because of it.

But, Kuroo keeps calling him cute and commenting on how he’s never seen him look so embarrassed like he did tonight and Tsukishima hates the way it goads him into trying to kick at his legs under the table.

He does end up staying for dessert this time and Kuroo learns that he loves strawberry shortcake. This triggers another bout of Kuroo insisting he’s cute because it doesn’t suit his personality at all, and all Tsukishima has to retort with is a rather weak shut up as he chews the cake sullenly.

The evening is tiring and leaves him in a weird mix of disdain, yet satisfaction. He still doesn’t really like Kuroo, but he can’t confidently say he hates him either.

The attention he receives and the compliments still feel fake, but he feels less certain on why. The whole experience feels too mushy and it’s leaving him tense, but as Kuroo walks him home and slips their fingers together, Tsukishima can’t bring himself to pull away.

“It’s the third date; does that mean I can kiss you at the door at least? You kind of ran out on me the first two times,” He’s chuckling as he speaks and as Tsukishima is about to argue for the fifth time that those were not dates—still not being able to deny this as a date either—Kuroo’s leaning in and connecting their lips.

It’s warm and soft and certainly something Tsukishima has never experienced before. It’s surprisingly brief and Kuroo parts with a smile that again looks different from his typical one. Tsukishima thinks it might be what he genuinely looks like when he smiles, but he can’t be sure. Despite how much Kuroo talks, he still can’t read him all too well.

As he watches him walk off, giving a short wave that Tsukishima doesn’t return, he realizes that he never got a chance to ask just what it is he actually thought of him.

He has trouble sleeping that night. Words echo in his mind of Kuroo calling him cute, when he calls him hot, flashes of when he was stripping that night replay and he can’t stop thinking about how even though they were in a room full of people it felt like they were alone. He thinks about what it would be like to strip only for him.

Tsukishima remembers how Kuroo licks his lips sometimes while watching him dance and suddenly he’s thinking about what it would be like to have that tongue on him. What it would be like to kiss open mouthed and have that mouth trail further and further down.

He’s alone in bed, but he can’t help turning over to muffle a moan into his pillow. He feels like he’s lost something every time he admits he wants Kuroo. Because he does. This stalker wormed his way into his life and now he could hardly go a long time without him as evidenced from before. His fingers find their way down, beneath his underwear and he’s embarrassingly hard.

With the amount of experience he’s had being practically none when it comes to actually fantasizing about someone in particular, he comes rather quickly, moaning into the fabric below him.

He feels disgusted and exhausted.

                                                                                                                                        -

They pick up where things left off before Tsukishima snapped at him. They text back and forth and Tsukishima is proud that the next time they meet, he’s able to disguise how awkward he actually feels being in front of someone he fantasized about. It doesn’t stop the creepy feeling he gets when Kuroo gives him his usual look and all at once Tsukishima feels like he somehow  _knows_ despite that being impossible.

Kuroo asks if he’d liked to come over and with a bit of hesitance, he agrees. His fears of anything overly intimate happening are quelled, as when Kuroo opens the door he’s surprised to hear a greeting.

Among the bits of information he had at first ignored, Kuroo had explained that he was roommates with one of the friends that accompanied him to the club that first time. It made introductions a little embarrassing because Bokuto continued to refer to him as that one stripper from the club. Tsukishima attempted to correct him, but in the end, he adopted the annoying nickname Kuroo had picked for him, stating unsurprising that, “Tsukishima’s too long of a name.”

Quickly, the blond finds himself wedged between the two with a stupid action movie, with an even stupidier plot, playing in the background. He also is quick to learn that Bokuto is loud and that Bokuto and Kuroo together are even more obnoxious.

He’s only been here fifteen minutes and a part of him is regretting agreeing to come at all. Before long, Tsukishima finds himself with a headache bordering on a migraine. Relief comes to him in the form of a double-edged sword however, when Bokuto is forced to leave about twenty minutes before the end of the film.

Something about not realizing the time and how he has work and Tsukishima thinks he sounds like a child as he sulks about missing the end of the movie, but then it’s quiet and he can almost think clearly.

It’s at Kuroo’s comment of, “You look like you’re about to puke,” for him to realize that they’re now alone.

He makes a pained groaning noise, before gently sliding his glasses off to rub at his eyes. He’s surprised when gentle fingers are rubbing at his scalp and his head’s being guided into laying down in Kuroo’s lap.

It’s surprisingly nice. Kuroo’s fingers are calloused, but his touches are soft. It twists something in Tsukishima’s chest and it’s making him want to run away again.

He doesn’t want to like anything about Kuroo. The man somehow manages to be annoyingly too close while somehow also being always just out of reach. Tsukishima never knows what he’s thinking, but somehow all their conversations are from Kuroo’s end so it doesn’t make sense. Nothing about him makes sense and it puts him in a constant state of turmoil. It’s uncomfortable not being certain of anything, but any time he thinks to ask, Kuroo’s distracting him or giving him answers that appear satisfactory only to bring more confusion later.

What does he actually mean by his compliments? What did he mean when he said he liked him? How could he decide something like that after such a short time? What was there even appealing about Tsukishima for him to like?

He’s been told his attitude and personality are abysmal. He supposes he must look decent enough if people are willing to literally throw money at him, but in terms of expectations for what is typically attractive in men, he falls short. His height is one thing, but his limbs are lanky and he’s been told his face is a bit more feminine looking if the comments that he looks like his mother are anything to go off of.

It’s making his headache worse and he wants to just focus on the fingers in his hair, but the owner of them is the one who gave him this headache in the first place.

                                                      -

Time feels disjointed after that. Tsukishima’s surrounded by a scent he’s not as familiar with yet, but as his consciousness returns he grasps onto the fact it’s Kuroo’s. Everything’s blurry and it takes him a few more seconds to realize he’s not wearing his glasses, and that he doesn’t recognize the room he’s in.

The sound of a door creaking open distracts his thoughts and moments later his glasses are being handed to him.

“You look cute without your glasses. It almost makes me believe you’re not an arrogant brat,” Kuroo’s grinning at him same as always, but there’s an almost endearing edge to it now. As much as it disturbs Tsukishima, he’s too groggy to dwell too heavily on it.

He responds wordlessly only making a small noise of annoyance, finally taking in the details of the room. It’s cleaner than he expected, although the desk by the corner of the room is full of books and papers, which seem more cluttered than organized. His eyes are torn away when he notices the thin, but long shadows coming through the curtains.

“How long was I asleep for?” His voice croaks a bit as he asks, throat dry. He feels the bed dip slightly, unsure whether he wants to move away or lean in closer.

“A few hours, I was surprised you managed to fall asleep. You keep talking about me like I’m a stalker or something and yet you were able to sleep on my lap so comfortably,” Kuroo glances over and Tsukishima tenses again when he notices just how close they are now. In fact, he only seems to be getting closer.

 “That’s because you  _are_ a stalker,” Tsukishima replies harshly. He’s about to ask why Kuroo’s so close to his face when there’s a hand suddenly on his cheek. Silence stretches before gently a calloused finger rubs at a spot just below his eye.

“Eyelash,” He explains easily enough, but Tsukishima feels the way his heart is pounding over something so simple and can’t help feeling stupid. It’s so cliché it’s almost nauseating.  Kuroo turns away again, answering as if he hadn’t just been seconds away from doing something else that close to his face, “I’m hardly a stalker. All I did was give you my number and ask you out to dinner. It’s not like I followed you home or wheedled your phone number out of a coworker or something. You gave me that information on your own.”

Tsukishima was too tired to argue, still waking up from an impromptu nap. His headache was blissfully gone, but if he was still with Kuroo it was only a matter of time before it came back probably.

“Normal people know how to take a no though,” He counters wondering if he’ll finally get an answer this time.

“Mm… but y’know I prefer to at least get a chance,” His face remains surprisingly neutral and obviously guilt free, “And besides you’re not saying no now.” He’s grinning now.

“You’re making me want to change my mind though,” Tsukushima replies blandly though from Kuroo’s face he can tell he doesn’t really mean it, not that the blond wants to admit that to himself. “Maybe it’d be better to call you a parasite instead of a stalker.”

Kuroo makes a face at that, “Gross, don’t you know anything about romance Tsukki?”

Before he can stop it, a small snort is creeping its way out of his throat and the smile it puts on Kuroo’s face leaves him feeling twisted again.  He’s quick to shift back into a frown and he’s almost tempted to call Kuroo’s expression a pout, “Aww, you smiled for a millisecond there. And here I thought you weren’t capable of it. You hardly ever smile on stage.”

“As if I want to go that far, I get paid enough for what effort I need to put in so any more than that is unnecessary. And I was laughing at you, there’s a difference,” He’s careful to emphasize, but based on the other’s reaction, he’s assuming what he wants again. Tsukishima is regretting it though as Kuroo moves closer again, fingers gently finding their way back on his cheek and tilting their faces together.

“So what would it take to get a genuine smile from you?” He asks, voice low and moving in to kiss him before he can reply again. Their lips connect as Tsukishima tries to answer this time however causing a slight noise of surprise to come out.

He feels his glasses press in slightly as Kuroo moves closer and he both hates and feels excited by how different it is this time compared to last. The kiss feels more intense and while it feels good, he isn’t sure how to feel about the fact it’s leaving him dazed. Bit by bit, Tsukishima feels consumed by Kuroo’s presence and he only loses it more as that tongue he couldn’t get out of his mind makes itself known.

Gently, Tsukishima gets the hint always being one to catch on quickly even if he was inexperienced and opens his mouth slightly to let Kuroo’s tongue enter. The thought of someone licking along the inside of his mouth or his teeth sounds disgusting, but oddly it feels good enough that he couldn’t stop another muffled groan from leaving his throat.

He keeps expecting Kuroo to laugh or even get that irritating grin of his every time it happened, but it only seemed to encourage the other’s movements, egging him on to try and cause more of them. Out of surprise, Tsukishima accidentally lowers his teeth not extraordinarily hard, but ends up surprised to hear Kuroo let out his own noise of pleasure over the action instead of a teasing remark.

It’s a minute or so later when they part for air and Tsukishima hates how flushed and breathless he feels. The feeling only increases as he watches Kuroo lick his lips and without thinking, it’s him leaning in again bringing them in for an unpracticed kiss. Kuroo has no qualms about letting Tsukishima try his hand if how easily he opens his mouth for his tongue means anything. Softly, Kuroo brings his hand back up to tilt Tsukishima’s face a bit making the access easily as if silently teaching him how to do it better.

The other’s mouth tasted vaguely of spicy cinnamon, but it was hard to focus on that with the heat pooling lower the more he moved his tongue. The act itself being gross, but somehow erotic, Tsukishima thought it might have something to do with Kuroo’s reactions and the fact it was him causing them. Hesitantly, he pulls back bringing his teeth down on Kuroo’s lower lip experimentally as his earlier mishap ended positively. When there was only a slight reaction, he increased the pressure relishing in the resulting groan from the raven beside him.

They separate once more for air again, and the hooded eyes Kuroo was sporting and the tongue licking where Tsukishima had just bit had his pants tightening in an uncomfortable manner.

He was panting and the room felt too hot. There was a little bit of spit on the corner of his mouth, but the more present fact making itself known was that he had just accidentally made out with Kuroo of all people.

More distressing was that he had  _liked_ it and was seconds from leaning forward again. Tsukishima brought a hand up to rub away the spit unable to even form a comment, a snarky insult, anything.

He swallows sharply when he feels a hand creep over his thigh and a glance down confirms that yes, he does have a hard on just from making out with Kuroo and yes, said person had noticed this fact.

“Hmm, what’s this?” Kuroo’s mouth twists into a seductive grin that only appears annoying because Tsukishima feels mortified. He opens and closes his mouth, eventually hitching his breath and letting out a small mewl when the hand moves up his thigh and palms ever so gently the front of his jeans.

His skin was crawling, every nerve saying this was not only too fast, but  _disgusting_  and he needed to leave this minute except it felt  _so good._

“K-Kuroo,” Tsukishima managed to choke out, not entirely sure what he had planned to say. Stop? Please? Just the thought of asking for anymore more from this satisfied cat was sickening.

Slowly, Kuroo brought his hand up unbuttoning Tsukishima’s jeans taking what felt far too long to unzip them. Those half-lidded eyes glanced up at him and it took him a moment to understand he was being asked permission.

“I can…bathroom,” He weakly supplies, but Kuroo doesn’t pull back, instead clarifying his request.

“Wouldn’t you rather I took care of it?” He asks his tone not hiding how excited the thought makes him and it just adds to Tsukishima’s embarrassment. He hesitates again until he feels Kuroo move again trying to slide his jeans down to get at his briefs.

“Why?” Tsukishima feels himself blurting out as Kuroo thumbs the waistband of his briefs, his erection shaped clearly along the fabric.

“I told you, I like you Kei,” He explains so simply that it just leaves Tsukishima with more questions, but he isn’t pulling Kuroo’s hand away or trying to dash off towards the bathroom.

A rather noisy moan escapes him when that calloused hand finally touches his cock without fabric in the way. The noises he’s making alongside the wet noises of the palm around him are obscene. Tsukishima brings a pale hand to cover his mouth not wanting to listen to himself any longer, but Kuroo stops him.

“That means I like those noises too,” He chuckles stroking him while he talks. It doesn’t stop him from biting his lip to try and muffle the noise better anyway. He thinks he hears Kuroo mutter cute at his actions, but it’s hard to focus on the words being spoken to him.

The only things he notices right now are hot, too wet touches on skin no one has ever looked at let alone, let alone caress. Despite the teeth trying to encase the noises Tsukishima is making, when he comes parts of it escape anyway. He tries to ignore how fast it was steadily trying to look anywhere that isn’t Kuroo or the sticky mess he feels on his lower abdomen.

He feels oddly cold when Kuroo removes his hand from his skin and he takes a quick glance to the other, mostly from instinct at being drawn to when others move, immediately regretting it.

Unabashedly, the raven is licking at what parts of the mess got on his hand and before Tsukishima realizes it, he’s staring. As if aware of his audience, which Kuroo obviously is, he increases the fervor of his actions making more of a show out of it and the blond isn’t sure whether to tell him to stop it or feel embarrassed at the other’s eagerness.

After all, it must be gross right?

“Nothing about you is gross Tsukki,” Kuroo pauses in his ministrations to answer Tsukishima’s unspoken question and it’s a bit unnerving.  

He swallows, his throat feeling drier than before they started this mess and looks away again. Moments later though, he feels fingers guiding his chin back to face Kuroo and he’s being brought into a kiss.

Vaguely, he can taste himself on the other’s lips and doesn’t hide his grimace about it, but Kuroo’s just pulling back and licking his lips again.

“If you want to borrow a shower, it’s two doors down on the right,” Kuroo offers moving off the bed entirely and Tsukishima’s grimace only grows as he observes the amount of disarray his clothes and body is in.

The emotional aspects of what just happened hadn’t really hit him yet so numbly focusing on getting clean seemed like the easiest part.

“Sure,” He replies a bit distant unsure if he should try to pull up his pants or save himself what little mess he can by stripping now. He was guessing Bokuto wasn’t back yet solely from how quiet everything still seemed, so it’d probably be safe to go down the hall without pants even if it wasn’t the most comfortable option in the world.

“Since it’s late, stay for dinner too; it’s what you do after moments like these, right?” Kuroo jokes laughing at his own words while Tsukishima tries to ignore the jumbled feelings it gives him. He follows him out of the room trying to cover his naked crotch with his clothes without getting them too messy.

Moments before he’s about to enter the bathroom, Kuroo’s voice calls for him again, “Oh, and Tsukki, if you want to stay after dinner, there should be dessert too.”

At first, he thinks he’s being mocked again for liking strawberry shortcake—despite Kuroo calling it cute he still couldn’t take his compliments seriously—but as he glances at him about to snipe at him for making fun of him, he catches that grin holding what is clearly a flirtatious lit.

His face flushes and he’s shutting the bathroom door faster than he’d like to admit.

…Maybe he would stay the night after all.

**Author's Note:**

> (Also some inspiration [particularly the volleyball outfit] from this [http://archiveofourown.org/works/2583338] great KageHina fic)
> 
> I have some other Haikyuu!! fics laying around that I may get to posting later today or tomorrow... trying to ease my way in I guess. I'm still posting Durarara!! but since I haven't caught up with the manga I was worried about writing and actually posting things for this series beyond my own self indulgent prompts/drabbles. I'm still kind of tempted to add another chapter to this story as it still feels rushed, but I don't know sometimes ending things off at points like these is also better, we'll see.


End file.
